Intoxicated Silence

With the bayonet in hand and the blade now deeply embedded into the kidneys of a revolutionary loading the mortar, Captain John Carpenter felt the life drain from his body and watched as blood spilled over the murky grounds.

Due to his mute powers the murder of the revolutionary went unnoticed. Grunting in agony the revolutionary fell to his knees to receive a strong kick to the face knocking him out cold leaving him to bleed out.

Tugging the bayonet free John sliced along the back of the revolutionary at the mortar. His back had been to John and his comrade who lay in a pool of crimson.

Slicing cleanly through the back of the revolutionaries neck John thrust the blade through the back of his neck tearing through the front. With more blood spilt and the mute powers still in effect, not one person noticed.

Removing the blade as the second body fell. John tossed the blade into the air and caught it between his teeth.

As horrid as death was, it was a necessity in war.
With the blood not just on his hands but his suit now as well, John Carpenter snatched up another projectile for the mortar and loaded it in. His next plan would draw a little more attention and his mute powers would be useless.

Gripping the mortar tightly he planned to use it against his enemies.

Seeing himself surrounded, Jonathan hoped that he was going to be taken prisoner and be used as a bargaining chip or something. Though from the look on the revolutionaries' faces that wasn't an option. Jonathan was disappointed but at least it made sense. A no name Ensign was worth less the dust on their boot. To them Jon was simply another enemy to be dispatched.

The rifle wielding revolutionary would lift the rifle after reloading it and began to point it at Jonathan. Jonathan guessed that they were going to do him the dignity of shooting him instead of simply stabbing him. How quaint... he thought. The revolutionary smiled as he cocked the end of the rifle. A shot rang out and a loud scream could be heard. The two revolutionaries looked over at their comrade. A knife could be seen sticking out of his shoulder. Their eyes turned back to the marine who had a single arm outstretched towards the armed revolutionary.

Jonathan looked down at himself. Seeing that he was unharmed, the marine smiled. "Guess I got lucky."

The two revolutionaries ran at Jonathan with their blades out. Though once they swung their blades they found that their target was no longer their. The sound of two swords clanking against each other was all they heard. Then they would feel a sharp pain in their neck and find themselves having trouble breathing. Unfortunately it was the last thing they would feel.

Jonathan however would casually walk forward. If one looked back they would see two collapsed revolutionaries with knives in their throats. Jonathan however could not afford such luxury instead he was focused on the man in front of him. The one with a knife in his shoulder.

The revolutionary still in pain would feel a tug at his hair. Jonathan pulled the rev before him and with a grin, he simply said... "You got 10 seconds to tell me all what the hell is going on, what the plan is for the island and who are the key figures. You cooperate, you live. You don't and I'll make sure you think your friends got off easy."

Vaetric watched, wincing a little as the suited man stabbed a revolutionary through, most likely very painful for the soon to be dead man. However, none of the revolutionaries seemed to have noticed, Vaetric was too far away to hear any cries of agony, or was he? He’d learn eventually, if he survived that long.
 
More blood entered revolutionary soil, yet more failed to notice as the man’s killcount came to two. He blinked as Suitman loaded the mortar himself, he definitely wasn’t a revolutionary, unless he was a marine Captain? Thought they didn’t get any news of new arrivals, though he had been out in the field. Well, he’d find out sooner or later, he heard a gasp beside him, a revolutionary riiiight next to his bush, watching the proceedings.
 
“I’ve gotta..” He began, before Vaetric popped out, no one else was watching, he delivered a hard smack to the revolutionary’s forehead with his mop. ..It was a mop, so it didn’t do much damage, as far as he was aware. Only gave a nasty red mark on his forehead.
 
The revolutionary grunted, reaching for his pistol. Vae gritted his teeth as he began smacking, and smacking, and smacking, over and over again, if anyone noticed, he was dead. Eventually the revolutionary fell prone.
 
Did he just knock out a guy with a mop?

Holding on to the mortar tightly Captain John Carpenter proceeded to point the open end towards other enemy targets. It was time to end this little game of bombardment.

Launching out the explosive projectile towards the rest of the team to his right and their leader John grinned.

In a matter of seconds the small team of revolutionaries was replaced by an ever growing explosion from various other projectiles exploding from the first, a rain of crimson body parts and finally a crater.

Raising an arm to cover himself Captain John Carpenter felt a few splatters find their way down his face.

Once it stopped so did the mortar fire, reaching into his pocket for his flask a quick drink was in order.

"Who needs a crew? Pfft!"

Marching towards the crater removing the bayonet from his teeth, Carpenter was ready to get some information. Stepping over limbs and various organs which sprawled themselves along the filth below, John spotted a hand still tightly clutching to a flintlock pistol and snatched it up.

This could come in handy.

Reaching the start of the crater he looked down inside to find very little, but one thing caught his eye. Leaping into the crater and sliding down the side, John came closer to discover he was right.

He'd found a lone living soul in the body of a wanted revolutionary criminal.


Smirking John dug a foot into his side and kicked the bleeding badly wounded crook on to his back. Placing his foot onto Reacher's chest pinning him to the ground John pointed the flintlock at Reacher's face.

"Ahote 'Apache' Reacher the revolutionary gunslinger former member of the Gold Eye Pirates. Responsible for assassination on Commodore Lockjaw. Even though you pulled off the kill, you forgot about an escape plan which is where your downfall came about as you were caught & placed in prison until the revolutionary division known as the shadows staged a jail break in which you shared a cell with their leader. How close am I?"

Looking up at the babbling drunk whose words hadn't come out as clearly as John had thought Reacher raised an eyebrow. The drink had hit it's marker and instead of hitting Carpenter's motor skills, it'd taken his speech down a peg.

"Are you drunk?"

"Nawwh,I'mnodrunnk (Hic)"

Vaetric turned away from the beaten, bloodied revolutionary, looking at his mop. It wasn't splintered, good make, apparently. Well, he didn't know about makes, he wasn't a mop expert. Or a wood expert. He wasn't an expert of anything, that's why.. he huffed, pushing that out of his mind, albeit failing. It stuck and whizzed around his head. Anger, disappointment, hatred, they swirled ever faster. They weren't his emotions, but his fathers. Pushed into the marines, yet he found no fighting as a choreboy, at least, not now. Was his whole existance to mock his father? He held no love for him, but he could see why he was pushed away so.

Last best, that was putting it as nicely as possible.
He turned, wincing as he saw the crater that formed along the revolutionary lines, or just crumpled it. Within, one of the special-looking revolutionaries was held at gunpoint by a man whose alcohol he could smell from his perch. At least, that was what his mind thought. He looked around, hearing a thump a few feet away as he saw a sniper perch up. He wasn't wearing white or blue, a revolutionary. He looked at his mop. May as well work out some of his anger. He creeped up toward the sniper, mop raised, ready to deal a beating.

And so he did.

Having not fully realized during his speech that the alcohol had hit him hard, John shut his mouth thinking it might be a good idea to keep quiet for a while. Delivering a swift foot to the face belonging to Ahote, it was clear that his mention of drunkenness wasn't appreciated. 

Lifting Ahote over his shoulder John quickly wrapped an arm around him and begun to make his way from his current location towards the first building he could see which by the looks of things had taken a beating from motar fire.

Marching through the corpses of revolutionaries, naval soldiers and the filth of the roads that barely remained, John found himself taking larger than usual steps over pot holes and leaping over a few larger than life gaps.

Before long he heard a voice from the building.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE" the voice commanded. 

Raising an eyebrow as his hand rested on the back entrance to the building John turned looking over his shoulder to spot three Naval soldiers of the rank seamen accompanied by a single warrant officer. 

Each armed with a rifle fully loaded and ready to deliver a but load of lead, John lowered his eyebrow. He reached into his inside blazer pocket for the flask and took a drink.

Mute

Gripping the flintlock pistol with his right and the bayonet with his left which he hid in front of his torso, John figured it was about time he showed these soldiers just what he was made of. Words worked well but nothing worked better than a demonstration. 

Muting the sound of the flintlock he positioned it under his blazer so the shot would blast towards his intended target. The trigger hand of the rifle of a soldier. 

Squeezing the trigger sent out a silent shot that missed its marker and instead slammed into the knee cap of the warrant officer who quickly hit the ground in agony screaming as it hit. He dropped his rifle drawing attention from the two seamen. 

Next up was his second demonstration which just like the first would fail miserably thanks tot he booze. Turning quickly and tossing the blade it found its way towards the closer of the two and instead of inflicting a small cut on the rifle hand causing the gun to fall, a little more blood was spilled and along with the rifle hitting the dirt, so did a secondary item known as a severed thumb. 

Two soldiers in agony and screaming in such pain the third dropped their rifle instantly and threw hands in the air. 

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING. JUST PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!"

Stepping towards the last marine standing, John reached down for the rifle picking it up with his free hand. Standing back up he used the butt of the rifle to uppercut the marine. 

Fools needed to learn respect and how to actually spring an ambush properly on the victim. 

Picking up the bayonet once more John continued through the door into the building where his comrades had been taking cover with Ahote still unconscious and over his shoulder.

Well, he did it. He took out another rebel, this one a sniper. He looked at his somewhat bloodied mop and winced. Maybe he went a little overboard. He listened quietly, over the sounds of gunfire, maybe he heard a small breath, maybe he didn't either way, the rebel SEEMED to be alive, so he didn't have to feel too bad about it. He turned, noticing the man in a suit.. Beating up marines?

What side is he on? He slings his mop over his shoulder, now determined to follow him. He looked at his mop, before gingerly putting it back down again. Making himself a big target wasn't really a good idea.

He followed, toward the building he entered. Hopefully it's not some third-party thing where both revolutionaries AND marines get killed. Although, he DID spare the three he attacked.

Entering the building John felt a wall of heat hit him. It was nice, but as he continued making his way down the corridor of the building with an unconscious Ahote slung over his shoulder voices became clear to him.

They belonged to marines who sounded feared.

Smirking John took to the stairs from the basement and lead his way up them. He started thinking about how he'd be greeted once he was recognized instead of ambushed poorly like the marines who'd no idea who he was.

Arriving on the ground floor, John spotted two marines leaning against the wall smoking. They looked rattled and to have not yet noticed Carpenter.

"Keepin' busy?"

Startling the two John watched as the marines dropped their cigarettes and grasped at their rifles dropping them unready for the ambush. Pointing their guns at John he smirked at their poor attempt to defend themselves.

"W-wh- who goes there?!"

Chuckling to himself John responded.

"Captain John Carpenter, captain of the Gin Rocker Marines."

Sighing the marines lowered their rifles in relief that they needn't engage in combat with the confident well dressed man.

"Who is in charge here?"

"T-th-that'll be Commander Jewels."

"Right, well I believe it's time I have words with him."

Stepping past the marines and into a large open bar filled with soldiers who seemed to be on the verge of giving up, John made his way up to the bar to see a soldier in slightly more official looked uniform.

The soldier looked to have lost hope and was hunched over with a drink.

Laying Ahote over the bar beside the soldier the marine sat up looking at Ahote in horror.

"Commander Jewels?"

"Jesus Christ!"

"Not quite right. Name's Captain John Carpenter and this native Indian scumbag is Ahote Reacher the man who was responsible for your situation."

"Are you saying that-? Wait, you're a captain?!"

In Commander Jewels there was an expression of relief. He seemed to finally be allot happier with himself and the sheer notice that he was no longer in charge.

"That's right, I'm a Captain in the Navy."

"Oh thank goodness! Please show me the way. I don't know what to do!"

Delivering a strong slap to the face of Commander Jewels, John sent him from the bar stool to the ground. The sheer impact was so loud it caught the attention of all around.

"First thing you lot need to stop drinking and start preparing your weaponry. We need to be ready to leave this shit hole behind and head out. There's some unmaned mortars outside we could use then we can head on to bring this revolutionary fight to an end. Last thing we need to make sure of is that everyone is here. No man left behind!"

"I think our Chore boy Vaetric Epoch is missing"

"Normally I'd say he's either dead or just leave him be,
but we need all the help we can get. Somebody get me that chore boy & put a gun in his hands!"

Vaetric continued on, approaching a building he recognised. he let out a sigh of relief as he identified it as the Marine HQ, where some Commander who was more jittery than him had been placed in charge. Or he took it, either way, he didn't really deserve it, not that Vae could talk. He hurried along, glancing to his left as he noticed a Marine sitting on the floor, hands up, with a non-Marine pointing a gun at him. Revolutionary? 

Vae's blow came fast, even he was surprised, smashing down onto the Revolutionary's head, causing him to raise up in alarm. The mop, being mercifully light, was quick enough for him to smack the rifle out of his hands, then land another blow to his face. Vaetric glanced down, it wasn't one of the Marines posted at the HQ, he must've come from somewhere else.

He helped the Marine up, and continued on his way, feeling good. Feeling the blood rush through his veins. Feeling strong. It was like he was ridding the poison from his veins with each strike, draining it bit by bit. He still had a lot of anger to rid himself of, and hopefully not a lot of bullets with his name on it. 

And finally, he made it to the building, still panting a little, entering with relief.

With the naval soldiers rushing around like maniacs trying to not just sober themselves up but also find themselves a large bounty of weaponry & various other supplies, Captain John Carpenter found his arse the stool Jewels had been sitting on and whipped out his flask.

Enjoying himself a nice long drink, he heard the sounds of Commander Jewels getting to his feet and opened his eyes. Looking down John could see the Commander had opened his mouth to speak up.

Not ready for the shit he'd be about to spout John raised his hand signalling not yet. He decided he would finish this flask before he let the shit bag utter a single word.

Glug . . .

Glug . . .

Glug . . .

Finishing the flask, John lowered it and slipped it into his pocket sighing as he prepared himself for the words from Commander Jewels.

"Speak Commander . . . "

"Sir we came to the island to apprehend the three revolutionary commanders. Ahote was one of the underlings of the first Commander."

"And?"

"I don't really know if I'm honest. I thought you might've just come here to save us."

Rolling his eyes John had one question in his mind which he knew he'd have to ask.

"Right. And who is this Commander you're currently after?"


Realizing just who the Commander meant, John gulped a little and nodded to himself taking on board just what this meant. He'd had a few run ins with the brute as he was named a couple of times in his past. But never been able to take the beast of a man down as he was very quick to make his escape at just the right time.

But now as it was time to take him down, John knew that the blows that they would come to today were going to be a nightmare just like every other time before.

"Right you are Commander. Assemble your forces and get your Intel together. We need to figure out not just where this brute of ours is, but the best plan of attack."

"Sir, why're you shaking?"

"When you come face to face with the brute you'll see why. He's a beast of a man I've come to blows with before numerous times."

Gulping the Commander nodded and got to his feet rubbing his sore face from the slap he'd received earlier. As the Commander got up and made his way off to control his team, John reached behind the bar for another drink only to pull out a full bottle of spiced rum.

Not his drink of choice, but it would do for the time being.

Opening the top he took a big swig before sliding the bottle into his blazer pocket.